


What'll you fall for?

by Minkey222



Series: Peter Parker is young, dumb and reckless (and also in constant pain) [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father Figures, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 22:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15694917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minkey222/pseuds/Minkey222
Summary: Jesus Christ, what happened?“What?” he’d answered, no hello, no nothing. Just ‘what’ (God he’s so awful). He heard Happy sigh down the end of the phone.“It’s Peter,” and didn’t that just send a shiver down his spine. The voice was sorrowful, exasperated and worried. And now everything seemed to be wrong.





	What'll you fall for?

**Author's Note:**

> Two works in one day huh...
> 
> I don't know what to say for myself honestly.
> 
> Hopefully, I might write some fluff one day.
> 
> Maybe if I can work out how to.
> 
> This is just a little interlude so please, I need a calm down after the storm that was the last instalment.
> 
> Love you all, stay safe <3

Jesus Christ, what happened?

Tony placed his head in his hands and slumped even further back into the chair he’d been sat in since Peter had been brought in. Breathing out a sigh, Tony still couldn’t get the noise of the ringing phone out of his head. That fucking phone call that he’d been tempted to ignore until he’d picked it up on a whim. It wasn’t unusual for Happy to call him, it was a Friday and Friday's meant Peter and, so yeah, he should have been concerned about Happy calling him but he was in the middle of something and he hadn’t even bothered to look at the time because he was simply so engrossed in this project and time was slowly melting away as he hammered at some piece of metal. Seems insignificant now. God, he hadn’t even noticed that it was hours later than it should have been even with Peter’s extracurriculars and there was still no signs of the kid or Happy- other than the phone calls. But at the time he hadn’t been thinking. At the time his head had been so immersed in what he was doing that he didn’t think that anything could have been wrong.

He answered the phone to humour Happy, didn’t think that it would have been anything important- haughtiness and annoyance at being broken out of his tinkering trance at the tip of his tongue;

_“What?” he’d answered, no hello, no nothing. Just ‘what’ (God he’s so awful). He heard Happy sigh down the end of the phone._

_“It’s Peter,” and didn’t that just send a shiver down his spine. The voice was sorrowful, exasperated and worried. And now everything seemed to be wrong._

Lifting his head and looking over to Peter, Tony shook his head placing his hand gentle on Peter’s own being careful to avoid the IV inserted in the pale skin. He looked so small in that bed, the constant beeping bugging him but he ignores it choosing to focus his mind on Peter’s face. It was slack, calmer than he had seen him in a long time. He could have noticed if he’d tried, dammit he’s an adult, he’s meant to be a reliable figure in Peter’s life but he’d missed- missed _This_. How could he have missed this?

God, he’s so awful.

May couldn’t even tell him herself. Peter made no effort to reach out, didn’t even leave a God damn note and because Tony is such a narcissistic paranoid asshole he hadn’t even given May his number. Even if he had given her his number he wonders if she would have even called him- He knows how much she disapproves of him and his involvement in Peter’s life. At points, he wonders if she was right, if he had done more damage than good for Peter- if his presence had been a larger reason for him to- to do what he did. If he was a cause or if he was a reason for Peter to stay. He wonders if Peter thought about him at all during, he wonders if he blamed him- he wonders if he was calling out for him (for anyone) to help him. Maybe one day Peter will tell him- maybe he’ll never trust him that much. Maybe Peter will help him to understand what is going through his head- was going through his head. Maybe Peter will let him be there for him again.  
Tony lets his finger inch up to the rough bandage on Peter’s wrist. Just how much did they all miss? How many signs did they ignore? How much faith did Tony place in just plain old teenage rebellion? The drinking? The bags under his eyes? The recklessness? The hours spent just sitting alone on the roof? Just how much had he been blind to? Just how much had Peter been reaching out? All the words that Tony had meant to say to him, all the promises, all the “I won't tell May”s- all the things that he did wrong sit on his shoulders. God, he messed up.

Happy’s call to him had been calm but he’d been borderline mad with worry, with grief, with fear, with blame. Happy had found out after May finding his number on Peter’s phone, nearly an hour after Peter had been brought in- too busy with keeping Peter alive than to be bothered with fiddling with Peter’s blood splattered phone.

Tony choked. He had rushed to get to the hospital after practically throwing the phone down but he’d only arrived after the kid had been all stitched up and stabilized and bandaged. If Tony thought he was a mess now he despaired to think what he’d be like if he had been the one to find him. He worries about what it might do to May.

From what he heard from May as she choked and sobbed against his oil splattered t-shirt was that she had gotten off from work early, bought Thai food of all things to surprise Peter with since she’d noticed that he’d been a bit down recently but when she arrived home he didn’t answer. That’s when she found him. After she had sobbed and cradled him and found a pulse and gotten him to the hospital in her shock and in her grief all she could think was that she wished she hadn’t gotten the Thai. That maybe if she’d been there for him earlier, maybe she could have stopped him, gotten him to talk to her.

Tony let out another sigh. Just how much had they all failed Peter? He knows that he certainly failed Peter. He failed to noticed that he was hurt, God, when the doctors found the gash across his stomach, too deep to be anything _self_ -inflicted, Tony remembered the robots, the subdued attitude, Tony remember being disappointed in Peter, taking the suit away from him and yet shooting off before even asking if he was okay- without even looking at him.

God, Tony is _awful_.

Or, well, he certainly feels awful.

He never intended to get close to the kid. He never wanted to get attached. He wanted to stay distant and aloof, like an estranged cousin you see every couple of year at a family reunion, one that you hear from occasionally and you can talk to them for a couple hours but you never really relax fully in their presence. But then again, this was Peter and nothing ever worked quite the same with him. He worked his way into Tony’s faulty heart and found a spot for himself. He’d called Tony _Dad_ and Tony knew that it was too late for him. He couldn’t protect Peter from him. He could try to protect him from the outside but he couldn’t protect him from himself. Everyone around him got hurt one way or another. 

He should have tried better, but that’s no excuse.

He looks at the gentle rise and fall of Peter’s chest and thinks, it’s too late to not get attached but he can keep Peter safe from now on- he can certainly try to and if that means he has to sacrifice himself, take on his troubles, hold his problems on his back like Atlas holding up the sky for Peter he would because, Tony thinks, if there was anyone worth falling for it would be him.


End file.
